Wizarding Diaries
by padfootastic
Summary: Series of unrelated drabbles. [Marauders, Dramione, Drarry, Tom Riddle]
1. 1st September

**I'm starting a new challenge with this one :") The Back to School September Event, where I have to write 30d drabbles for each day of the month :")**

 **This is something that is purely for me, as a means to unwind during exam time, as a means to improve my drabble writing skills (which presently suck) and just to get back into the habit of writing whenever I feel like I'm going through any form of writer's block. I'm really hoping I can see this event through to the end.**

 **Constructive criticism, and all forms of reviews, are always appreciated.**

 **Prompt: (word) library**

 **Word count: 706**

* * *

Hermione was sitting in the library, in her favorite secluded corner that no one really knew about. Well, no one except one certain person whose cologne was always left behind that she could smell every time she entered this little nook. In the past five months it had been happening, she really couldn't find out whom the cologne belonged to. It was kind of driving her crazy, if she was being honest, for it was a _very_ attractive scent and she had almost taken to subtly sniffing guys who passed her in hallways and in the class. _Almost._ Only her self-respect and dignity had saved her from stooping to such a level. She traced her pencil over the table, doodling absentmindedly as she imagined herself meeting this man with the beautiful cologne.

Coming back to her senses when she accidentally pressed her pencil down too hard on the table and broke the tip, she let out a frustrated sigh when she was distracted by the thought of the mysterious man again, something that was happening quite a lot over the past few days. She shook her head and turned back to her Runes homework. She had quite a few inches to write and now enough time to do it. Putting any thoughts of sexy guys and their sexy cologne out of her mind, she started writing about the disadvantages of using a Soul Rune.

* * *

Draco sneered in faint annoyance when he entered his corner in the east wing of the library and smelt the vanilla scent again. Someone was really going to town with this room, weren't they? It was frustrating that he had never been able to see the only person who was always here besides him, which was miraculous in itself considering how much time he spent in the library. Or at least, this particular part of the library. It protected him from all the mindless fools who rushed to the library in a panic one day before their assignments or thought that it was a nice spot for a makeout session.

He took a deep breath, the scent of vanilla tickling his nostrils. There was something else he could smell too, ink and parchment, which wasn't really surprising. He had always been told he had an extremely sensitive nose, something his friends never failed to tease him about considering his er..unusually _pointy_ features.

He sat down at the lone table that was pushed against the light pastel wall, kicking his feet up on the chair in front of him. Looking down at the table, he let his lips twitch into a tiny smile when he saw the stick figures scribbled on the wooden surface. They were quite nearly indistinguishable, but fun to look at nonetheless.

He suddenly blinked, noticing he had spent quite a lot of time admiring the after effects of the mysterious girl who would always be there before him and not enough getting started on his Arithmancy work. Opening his book to the magical properties of the number seven, he tried to put all thoughts of his anonymous contemporary out of his mind.

* * *

She was rushing towards her Potions class, cringing at the thought of Snape calling her out on being late, when she smelt it. That musky scent of cologne that had been slowly driving her crazy. She turned around so quickly, it could've given her a whiplash, her bushy hair flying over her shoulder as she tried to locate where the scent came from. The corridor was mostly empty, which helped. As her eyes swept over the length of the place, brown orbs widened in surprise and shock as they met a pair of similarly frantic grey eyes.

"Malfoy."

* * *

He was late for Transfiguration and knowing how much McGonagall disliked him only made him walk faster. He had only just turned the corner when the that intoxicating, and highly annoying, jumble of vanilla, ink, and parchment teased his nose. He whipped his head around, eyebrows furrowed as he attempted to figure out who the mysterious girl was.

His grey eyes widened, however, when they connected with a pair of brown orbs belonging to a bushy haired, red and gold clad girl.

"Granger."


	2. 2nd September

**Enjoy, and remember, constructive criticism is always appreciated :")**

 **Prompt: (word) homework**

 **Word count: 447**

* * *

"Really, Potter? You're just gonna sit there and do _nothing?_ " Lily Evans was annoyed, quite rightly so in her opinion, for James Bighead Potter was just _sitting there and doodling_ when they had a huge bunch of homework for Runes and Arithmancy. It wasn't like they were easy subjects like Care of Magical Creatures or Defense either.

He looked at with a confused expression on his face. "Uh, what exactly am I supposed to be doing?"

Lily let out an exasperated sigh. "Maybe your homework for a change?"

James' expression cleared. "Ah, that. Well, I finished Runes and Arithmancy. Did a second reading of Runes but Arithmancy is still a draft, though. I went some inches over the limit so I need to go back and try to work it out somehow," he added the last part with a sheepish expression on his face and his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

The red haired prefect's mouth fell open at his words. "Bu-Bu-But we were only assigned all this work two days ago. And it's ten inches EACH. How did you finish it so quickly? And I know for a fact that the required texts for the Runes assignment weren't in the library until this afternoon, after which I checked it out."

James shrugged nonchalantly. "Sirius and I finished both of them yesterday. If you ask me how, I'm not really sure. I remembered that stuff from when it was taught in the class, had to go over a few reference books I had, mind you but yeah. And Sirius being the genius he is, didn't really need anything."

Lily gaped at the casual way he admitted he finished two of the toughest assignments they had ever been given for homework til now.

"Well," James said, getting up, "I kind of need to get to Quidditch practice so I need to get going. I'll see you later?"

Lily could only nod dumbly at his with her mouth still open, blushing a little when his lips quirked up in that adorable way of his whenever he was amused by something. Or someone, in this case.

"If you want any help with that, I'd be glad to help you," he nodded towards her assignment, which was only half done by that point. She could only nod dumbly again.

' _It really was a wonder how these boys studied. It certainly wasn't by using any of the usual, conventional methods. They went against everything she believed in_ ', she thought as she focused her attention back on the book in her hands, her mind still in a slight daze.


	3. 3rd September

**This is different from my usual style. Good or bad? I have no idea.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Prompt: (word) Uniform**

 **Word count: 345**

* * *

"Mr. Black!" Professor McGonagall cried in indignation.

"Yes, Professor?" Sirius Black replied cheekily, knowing quite well why he had been stopped.

"What on earth is the matter with your uniform today?" McGonagall demanded.

Sirius was dressed in the customary white shirt and black trousers, but with an outrageous purple robe on top that looked like it was more suited for someone like Dumbledore, who had an...eclectic sense of fashion, rather than Sirius Black, who was always impeccably dressed, due to his aristocratic upbringing.

"Er, you see Professor," the raven haired teen started in an earnest tone, "I woke up this morning and all my robes were gone! Simply vanished into thin air."

McGonagall looked at him in disbelief, one perfectly plucked eyebrow raised.

Sirius continued at his unhurried, leisurely pace, "It was preposterous, I tell you. And I had to improvise, did I not? I couldn't just come to class without a robe on, Professor. The disgrace!" He had such a perfectly contrived expression of righteous indignation on his face that a lesser being would've been fooled. But not the transfiguration teacher, ah no.

"Is that so?" she asked in an unimpressed tone.

"But, of course, Professor! So I took the first thing I could get my hands on and decided to transform it into a robe. Now, would it really be my fault if the nearest object was a purple Sleakeazys Bottle? It would stand to reason that the robe would be purple!"

"And why, Mr. Black, did you not just charm it a different color? I'm sure you're quite adept at second year color changing charms," Mcgonagall asked frostily.

"Why, so we could have this pleasant conversation, Professor," came the answer in the form of an exclamation.

Professor McGonagall's mouth dropped open a little at his brazen answer but she could do little more than shake her head with a fondly exasperated smile playing on her lips, causing Sirius to smirk at her reaction.

He would never change. She wasn't quite sure she wanted him to.


	4. 4th September

**Prompt: (word) problem**

 **Word count: 571**

* * *

"Okay. Start talking," James demanded as he flopped on the couch in their apartment's living room.

Sirius looked up, his long shoulder length hair acting falling over his eyes, inadvertently acting like a curtain. "Talk about what?"

James shot him a look. "You know what I'm talking about."

A look of puzzlement entered the other man's grey eyes. "I….really don't."

James sighed in exasperation. "Anna, Sirius, Anna. Are you gonna talk about her on your own or do I have to make you?"

Sirius blinked, once, twice, thrice. "What's there to tell?"

James was about to go nuclear on him in annoyance before he saw the slight tugging at the corner of his lips, indicating his amusement at the situation.

James scoffed in disbelief, the little fucker was doing this on purpose and having fun with it.

Sirius, having noticed that James had figured his little game out, let out a laugh. "Ah, Prongs, what will I do without you man?"

The other man merely flipped him off before changing the topic back to their original conversation. "Are you gonna talk now?"

Sirius sighed, "Of course. Anna and I are….dating."

James' eyes lit up in glee. "The Great Sirius Black dating, huh?"

Sirius scowled, "Shut up."

It was James turn to laugh at his best mate's predicament now. He really was adorable when he got defensive.

Sirius made to get up but before he could, James relented, holding his hands and up and coaxing him to sit back down. "Alright, alright, I give. You gonna talk about what's bothering you now?"

Sirius looked at and as if somehow realizing that he would have to talk because James wouldn't agree to anything less, he deflated. "I really, _really,_ like her, James."

James sobered up, realizing that this wasn't just a trivial problem like he had initially assumed. He stayed quiet, however, letting Sirius continue.

"And I'm worried I'll lose her, or she'll lose interest in me."

James got up to sit next to his best mate, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Sirius, mate, she'd have to be a right idiot to even think of leaving you."

Sirius leaned his head back on James' outstretched hand, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Slowly exhaling, he said, "I know, but I still wonder you know? I wonder why someone as gorgeous as her, as amazing and as exhilarating as her, and as perfect as her would choose me."

James smiled sadly. He knew where this was coming from. The years of abuse he suffered at the hands of his blood relatives (Not family, never family) had had a severe psychological impact on him and left him with these feelings of self-loathing and depreciation. James had worked on it quite a bit, but it still cropped up from time to time, when he was especially invested in something or someone.

"Because you're a diamond in the rough, Sirius. She would need to dig deep for you, but in the end, you're worth it. You make all the hard work worth it."

If his words caused a tear to leak out of the other man's eyes, well, James didn't feel the need to comment on it and the two of them sat there silently, one seeking comfort in the presence of the other.

* * *

 **For Anna, who's beautiful, and the most amazing person ever.**


	5. 5th September

**This can be thought of as a Muggle!AU. It'll be more appropriate, actually.**

 **Welcome to my first Drarry :") [Hopefully this inspires me to complete my incomplete oneshot about them]**

 **It's 4 am and I'm writing drabbles. Ah, the perks of having inspiration strike at weird times.**

 **Anyway, enjoy, and leave a review!**

 **Prompt: (word) blackboard**

 **Word count: 497**

* * *

Harry Potter scribbled something on a piece of paper and tore it out of his binder. Crumpling it into a ball, he aimed and threw it so that it travelled in a perfect arc and hit Draco Malfoy, who was sitting about two rows in front of him, smack dab on the back of his head.

The platinum haired teen turned slightly and scowled at his grinning boyfriend.

"Really, Potter?" he mouthed, quickly bending down to retrieve the crumpled ball that had rolled under his chair.

Harry just continued to grin shamelessly, making Draco roll his eyes and turn around. Slouching slightly in his seat, and keeping an eye on Ms. McGone who was busy writing the Laws of Thermodynamics on the blackboard, he quickly opened the paper ball. Grey eyes flew over the words written on the paper and not ten seconds later, he plopped his face on the desk with a groan. What did he do to end up with a boyfriend like this?

Written on the page was, ' _If you look at her just right, Ms. McGone's bun looks like a tiny kitten. Kind of like her face, if I'm being honest. Nod twice if you agree.'_

Just as he was about to turn around and flip the raven haired teen off, however, the bell rang. The sounds of sheets rustling, binders closing, and chairs scraping echoed throughout the classroom. Ms. McGone was shouting about the assignment that was due the next day and no one could even be bothered to care.

Just as Draco got up, Harry appeared beside him.

"You saw it, right?" he asked excitedly.

Draco gave him a deadpan look. "Fuck off."

"Aw," Harry pouted, "are you really gonna be like that?"

Before Draco could say that _yes, he was going to be like that,_ the other teen had leaned forward and planted his lips squarely on top of his own. Having never been able to resist the feel of Harry's soft lips on his own, he forgot where he was, and moved his lips to the rhythm of his boyfriend's, content enough to follow his lead.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Malfoy!" came a shriek from behind them, causing them to jump part, remembering they were still in the classroom and there was still a teacher with them.

"How preposterous! Never in my whole career have I….." blustered Ms. McGone, face streaked with an angry red. Draco cocked his head, and turned to Harry.

"You know, it does look like a kitten."

Harry's face lit up with mirth, and he grabbed Draco's hand and dragged him outside, calling out to the incredibly indignant teacher as he did.

"Incredibly sorry, Ms. McGone, our deepest apologies. We'll make sure we take it to another room next time."

And as Ms. McGone was left spluttering in anger, the two teens, black and blonde haired respectively, ran out laughing, still holding hands.


	6. 6th September

**Maybe a tiny bit of angst here? I'm not sure, I'm not really a good gauge for angst xD**

 **You can also think of this as a sort of prequel to 'Moving In' which is a small Wolfstar ficlet I've started, it's all pre-written, in case anyone's interested :")**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Prompt: (quote) 'It always seems impossible until it's done.'**

 **Written for Task 5, Home Economics- Shelter and Housing, write about someone moving house or doesn't have a home.**

 **Word count: 492**

* * *

"Phew," Sirius huffed, placing the huge cardboard box in his hands on the wooden floor, "that's all done."

He wiped the few droplets of sweat that had gathered on his forehead with the back of his hand, looking around as he did. A slow smile blossomed on his face as he took in the unfurnished room and the bare kitchen.

It wasn't much, definitely not what he was used to, but it was all his.

"And mine, yo," James' voice came from behind him, startling him. He turned around, confused.

"Yes, you said it out loud," his best mate confirmed, "And I'm here to say that this is mine as well."

Sirius sneered, although there was no bite behind it. "You're only going to be here for the food anyway, what's the point?"

"Ah well," James pointed out, going over to sit on the lone couch in the living room, something they had brought over from their boarding school after lots of begging and pleading, "that's the most important thing there is, isn't it?"

Sirius shook his head but didn't say anything. Instead, he walked into the kitchen, his hands over the shiny steel counters. All his culinary equipment was packed in boxes that were currently at James' place. Most of his clothes were still thrown around his room at the Potters and he probably wouldn't get a decent nights sleep in the next week, but he didn't care.

He had finally gotten away, finally left them behind. He now had a place that he could call his own, because as much as he loved the James and his family, and living with them, he could never really call their house _his._ Not completely.

But now he had a place where he wouldn't have to worry about spilling tea on the bed sheets, or leaving the bathroom wet, or keeping dirty utensils in the sink. He could wake up whenever he wanted, and go to sleep when he wished.

Most importantly, he didn't have to worry about a mother who wouldn't stop screaming, or a father who didn't know the meaning of love, or a brother who didn't have any form of a self-identity.

"I'm finally free," he breathed in amazement, the true gravity of the moment finally sinking into him, as he stood there in the middle of an empty kitchen.

"You are, Sirius," James' voice suddenly came from behind him. "You are."

He could hear footsteps walking towards him, but he didn't turn around. James' arms wrapped around his stomach, and he leaned back. This was what had kept him going all these years, James' friendship.

"I did it, James," he whispered in awe, "I did it."

He could _feel_ James smiling, rather than see it.

"It always seems impossible until it's done, Pads. I always knew you could do this."


	7. 7th September

**So I'm beginning to really like drabbles, if the recent wave of these tiny fics is any indication.**

 **I'm beginning to explore the possibilites of writing Peter here, all credits to Anna for that one.**

 **Also, if you want more context for the last line, I would totally recommend 'The Butterfly Effect' by AnotherGirlWithAStory**

 **Word count: 405**

* * *

"Come on, Pete, you can do it!"

"Yes, Wormy, you're nearly there."

"Okay, yes, that's it, that's just it. Well done, Peter!"

The four fifth year Marauders were sitting on the floor of their dorm, in a circle. Each of them, barring Peter Pettigrew, had some sort of card in their hand and another thicker stack of more cards in their other hand. They seemed to be going in a clockwise order, with James leading the charge and Remus finishing it.

What were they doing, however? Preparing Peter for the coming Ordinary Wizarding Level exams, or OWLs as they were otherwise called. Unlike the rest of his friends, Peter wasn't in the top five of the class. He was somewhere near the bottom, if he was being honest with himself.

Ask him to come up with a deadly efficient plan, and he could do it. Ask him to figure out escape routes and strategic techniques and he was your guy, but tell him to memorize and recite the Common Defensive Theories and their Derivatives or create a perfect Draught of Peace and well, he would completely blank out.

Which is why the four of them had created flash cards specifically for him, to help him with his revision for the OWLs, which were in less than a month.

James held up a bright orange card with black words written on it.

" **Taking wood from a bowtruckle?"**

Peter racked his brains, he knew the answer, it was just there and, and…

"Wood lice or fairy eggs!" he gasped, as it struck him, "Yo-you give the bowtruckle wood live or fairy eggs in exchange for wood or leaves."

James beamed at him, clearly proud of him and seeing his friend's proud expression made Peter feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He didn't know how he had turned out as lucky as he had to find these four amazing friends, but he had. They never once made fun of him or teased him for not being as smart as them, and yeah, sometimes he felt really inadequate in front of them but they always made him feel better in one way or another, sometimes not even knowing they did it.

And as the three boys spent the rest of the night quizzing him on this and that, all Peter could think of was, _this is what a true family feels like._

* * *

 _The Butterfly Effect, AnotherGirlWithAStory y'all_


	8. 8th September

**So this can be thought of as a prequel to Moving In as well, which is my Muggle!AU Wolfstar. It's almost complete too, in case you wanna check it out ;)**

 **I went very different with Lily's family dynamic here but hey, I'm experimenting with how I want her to be quite a bit and this is part of it.**

 **Tell me what you think!**

 **Prompt: (dialogue) It's hard to listen to you with a straight face**

 **(action) attending the first class**

 **Word count: 772**

* * *

Lily sighed with happiness as she entered the huge classroom. Even though she had known this day was coming, it hadn't really sunk in until she stepped foot in here, the smell of paper and old books and stationery overwhelming her senses.

Ever since she was 11 she had wanted to get out of her house. In a place where everyone was either a doctor or an engineer, aiming for the liberal arts was nothing short of disgraceful. She had always felt different, felt like a freak for wanting what she did. It didn't help that Petunia, her older sister, was the 'normal' one, the 'sane one', the one who was most like her parents, on the path to becoming an engineer.

She could clearly remember the first time her mother had looked at her with derision. She was 11 and painting had always been her passion. And although she could see her family's disapproval, they would always brush it off as childish fantasies that she would grow out of because how could she not with a family like hers that emphasized logic and reason over all else?

But, one day, her mother had told her to put her pencils and paints away. She had refused, her mother had scornfully asked her what good those paintings would ever do. And being the naive 11 year old she was, she had cheerfully replied that she would get rich by selling her paintings one day.

She could never forget how her mother had reacted. She had ripped the sheets and pencils out of her hands and thrown on into the trash right in front of her eyes. That day had changed her little girl view on her family and her passion forever.

But now she was away, she was free and she didn't have to go back home to _those_ people. Even though this was a sleepy little town and the rent she was paying was just a _little too high_ , it was fine because she had gotten away from home and she was studying what she wanted.

"Uh, hi?" A voice from behind and a hand moving in front of her face broke her away from her thoughts.

She turned around, startled. There was an incredibly attractive, raven haired man about her age standing behind her. He had hooded grey eyes, and a silver stud in his nose, half of his wavy hair was pinned back and he was just painfully sexy.

"Gods, you're hot," Lily accidentally blurted out before her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hand, a horrified expression on her face.

The other man blinked, his lips twitching just a tiny bit. "I-uh, thanks."

"I would like to do some really forbidden things to you, you know," she continued, not knowing where all this was coming from. The attractive guy's lips twitched even more but he didn't say anything, probably to spare her from embarrassing herself further.

"But, I've recently shifted any my room isn't fit for one person, let alone two wanting to get it on so I can't really do anything about that," she finished, closing her eyes in defeat at the end. She really, _really_ needed to invest in a filter for her mouth, because at times like this when it went off on its own without her control, it ended up getting her in some pretty sticky situations, like this.

The man in front of her dissolved into fits of laughter at her words, even wiping a tear that had leaked out of his eye, "Oh lord, I really needed that. You know, it's hard to listen to you with a straight face, are you always like this?"

Lily nodded sheepishly, "Pretty much, yeah."

The man nodded, "I think we'll get along great then. I'm Sirius, by the way."

"Seriously?" Lily asked incredulously. The main- Sirius- raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow, leading her to believe he was actually telling the truth. Imagine that, having Sirius as a name!

"Well, in that case, I'm Lily!" she introduced herself cheerfully, "I'm afraid it's not as exotic a name as _Sirius."_

"I'm afraid it'll have to do," Sirius sniffed pompously, though his grey eyes were glittering with mischief and amusement.

Lily grinned at him, glad to have made a friend in her first class of her first day. She really hadn't expected it to happen. "You ready for our first lesson?"

Sirius sighed, "Ah yes, let's go in, shall we?"

"We shall," Lily replied in the same tone.


	9. 9

**Well, this was one attempt at writing this scene :3 Not quite sure how it worked out but eh. Hope y'all like it :")**

 **Written for Transfiguration: Write a fic from the POV of someone who is in some form of captivity.**

 **Prompt used; 'I'm terrified of being alone. It's pathetic.'**

 **Word count: 843**

"Draco. Draco!" He could hear his mother's voice ringing in the hallway but he could not bring himself to even look up at the sound, let alone respond to her. He merely sat on the floor, with his back against the wall and his shoulders uncharacteristically slumped.

"Dra-OH!" His mother's surprised gasp accompanied the opening of the door and yet, Draco did not lift his head. His hands were buried in his hair, occasionally pulling at them, making them stand up in weird angles.

"Draco, love, what's wrong?" He could hear her coming towards him, her hesitance clear in her uneven footsteps. Still he did not reply.

When she reached him, she did not say anything like he had expected her to, instead, she knelt down and cupped his too cold face in her hand, lifting it up so she could look into his eyes.

She couldn't help it; Narcissa gasped. Her son, her precious baby boy looked like death had warmed over him. Of course, those were the most accurate words to describe their current situation, she thought.

His eyes had dark bags under them, his alabaster skin so pale, so sickly it appeared almost translucent in the dim light. His hair was lying limp across his forehead. What scared her most of all, though, were his eyes. His brilliant grey eyes that were usually so full of emotion and feelings were now...dead. That was the only way she could describe it; they were dead, lifeless, as if he had lost all hope and all motivation in life.

Narcissa knew how dangerous it was to lose hope, after all, she had been dangerously close to it herself far too many times than she'd like to think about.

Again, Narcissa decided not to say anything at the sight in front of her. Instead, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her little boy. Though he had outgrown her quite a while back, he would always remain her little Dragon, the one who would look up at her with wonder and curiosity shining in his beautifully expressive eyes and the one who would never be able to sleep unless it was in her arms.

"Mum," Draco whispered. Narcissa couldn't help the small smile that her lips turned up in, despite the situation. He had only ever called her 'mum' when they were alone, preferring 'Mother' when they had company, even when it was his own father. In recent times, however, even that had stopped and he had been painfully distant with her.

"Mum, I can't do this anymore," he whispered again and Narcissa realized, with a start, that she had never heard him sound this defeated _ever._

"Do what, sweetie?" she asked, though she had a pretty good idea of what he was talking about.

"I can't stay here anymore, in this house, with..with _him._ I'm this close to going crazy!" Draco harshly exclaimed though Narcissa knew he was frustrated with the situation and not her.

"I..I feel so trapped in my own house, mum. I haven't talked to anyone who doesn't have that hideous mark on their arm in since school closed and I feel like one of those dratted muggle puppets who're controlled by others!"

"I'm so, so terrified of being alone," he whispered, voice dropping almost as soon as it had raised. "It's pathetic that I feel like I need someone. When I wake up alone at night, trembling and sweating that _he_ is killing me, I feel pathetic. When I'm too scared to breathe loudly because I never know who's hiding where, I feel pathetic. But most importantly, when I'm too fucking paralyzed to even look at you because I fear they would hurt you, I feel pathetic."

His whispers were broken utterings that shattered Narcissa's heart. Every mother wants the best for her child, wants them to be happy and content. Seeing her baby like this made her feel like the scum of the earth, like she didn't deserve to call herself her mother.

What could she say to him, anyway? That she was sorry? That she didn't have a choice? That he should keep his head down and stay out of their way? Or that things will change soon?

Because she wasn't sure anything she told him right now would have even an ounce of truth in it.

So she merely hugged him tighter to her chest, repressing the urge to sob as his hands tightened almost desperately around her waist and his shoulders shook with the force of his own emotions.

She had once promised herself that her son would not have to live the life of obedience and subservience that she had lived. The difference was that she was under her father's control and Draco was controlled by someone much more dangerous, much more volatile.

She closed her eyes as one traitorous tear leaked out, praying to Merlin and Morgana that her son could leave this life while he still could, that he not be trapped in this manner of living anymore.


	10. 10

**This as** ** _supposed to be_** **up on Christmas as the Secret Santa gift for Zivandre, but me being me, and school being school I could not write anything in the last month, hence the lateness. I really do apologize.**

 **This was really far from my usual style of writing, which is why it might not be very good/ is so short. I promise I will make it up to you soon.**

 **I do hope you enjoy it though :")**

"Crucio!"

A jet of red light barely brushed her hair as she turned around just in time. Huffing slightly to dislodge the strand of hair that had somehow freed itself from her braid and fallen into her eyes, Hermione Granger turned around and cleanly shot off a Diffindo at the man who attacked her from behind.

True to her aim, the spell nicked his artery and Hermione turned around before she could see the blood spray out. Not that she didn't want to, oh no she loved to see her enemies suffer, but because she had more idiots to take care of.

And as if on cue, three men in white masks showed up around her and Hermione had to stop all thoughts from entering her mind as she focussed on the ones around her.

A spell shot towards her from the man on the left, an Avada, which she managed to ward off by conjuring a rock midair. At the same time, the man in the center sent a blasting curse directly in front of her feet, making her smile grimly.

"Oh so someone knows how to fight AND use their brains huh/" she muttered under her breath before deciding that a single wand wasn't going to help her win this thing.

She cast an opaque shield, one she had seen in the darkest books of the Malfoy libraries and one she knew could only keep her hidden for half a minute at the most. When the spellfire was successfully blocked, she dropped to her knees and pulled out her beloved daggers from where they were holstered in her boots.

It was for situations like these that she had them on hand. Or well, foot.

Knowing that her time was up, Hermione crouched low, daggers ready in each hand. The one disadvantage to using a shield like this was that _she_ couldn't see anything on the other side, either. She just had to be prepared as best as she could be and hope to hell the others hadn't called for backup in the time it took her to get everything she needed.

It wasn't Hermione Granger's style if it didn't have incredibly fatal risks, after all.

"Three, two, one…" she trailed off just as the shield shimmered out of existence, and with a shout, she threw the daggers in the direction of the two men on the extremes. It hit them dead center on their chest, and they went down immediately.

With a snort, she noticed that the men hadn't called for any backup. Probably because they assumed they could take on one person on their own. Too bad for them they underestimated her.

It did mean there was only one person left for her to finish off. Piece of cake, really.

And with a stab of her wand and some silent casting, she used an overpowered Reducto to deal with him.

"And done," she stated, a note of smugness running through her voice. She couldn't help it, she _had_ just defeated three of the best fighters that the Dark Lord's army had.

"Well, I don't find this surprising at all," she heard an amused voice drawl from behind her.

Her lips pulled up in a smirk as she turned around to see Draco Malfoy, covered in blood, usually perfect hair all scrunched up and clothes torn.

She raised an eyebrow in question.

"Don't play stupid, it's not a good look on you," Draco said, "I'm talking about all this bloody carnage you're surrounded in."

"Oh this?" Hermione cocked her head, the picture of innocence, "It's nothing. You can't say anything of blood and carnage, though, seeing as how you're all covered in it yourself."

Draco laughed, "The hazards of work, sweetheart, I'm sure you're familiar with them."

Hermione took a step towards him, until they were nose to nose, "I am. I do have to say, though. All that blood looks good on you, it brings out your... _eyes._ "

"Is that so?" Draco mumbled, leaning down so their lips were a hairsbreadth apart.

"Mhm hmm," Hermione hummed before wrapping one hand around his neck to pull him down in a searing kiss.

Draco responded with the same amount of passion, wrapping his arms around her waist to bring her even closer to him, their bodies pressed up against each other.

They might have been killers, might have been the only ones who actually _volunteer_ to go out on missions like these, might have been the only ones who _enjoyed_ it but at the end of the day, the only place they were truly happy was in each other's arms.


	11. Skipping Detention

**Some muggle!AU Drarry for yall :')**

 **I am...falling in love with bad boy Harry and good boy Draco tbh.**

 **Enjoy, and review!**

 **Word count: 1360**

 **(4/1/18)**

Harry leaned back in his chair, boredom lining his face. He had hardly been in detention for ten minutes and he was already itching to get out of the stuffy room he had seen more than enough of.

This time he had got a detention because he was caught making out in the hallways, which of course affected the sanctity of the institution and didn't he know that such vulgar behaviour was not tolerated here?

He did, of course. He just didn't care.

As he was absorbed in his musings, the door opened and a tall boy he had never seen before entered the room. Harry sat up straight as his eyes raked over the newcomer.

He was pale, so pale that Harry could see the blue veins running across his forearms and neck even from the distance he was at. And he was skinny, very skinny. His carefully ironed shirt, chinos and dark brown shoes gave off a very expensive vibe.

Something that vastly contrasted Harry himself, who despite coming from an affluent background himself, was always dressed in ripped jeans, crinkled t-shirts and worn out sneakers.

And while he had tattoos covering his right arm, going all the way down to his wrist, the new boy had unmarred skin that looked as disturbingly smooth as a baby's butt.

He had a very attractive face too, with his white-blonde hair neatly combed but a few unruly strands still falling into his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed inwards, and his teeth were nibbling on his bottom lip in nervousness and apprehension.

All in all, he looked like a complete goody two shoes. And that excited Harry.

Lucky for him, the new kid sat right beside him, despite the number of empty seats around them. Harry figured it was because he was so nervous that he hadn't noticed him sitting there.

"Hi," His assumption was proven correct when the boy jumped in surprise at the sound of his voice.

He looked at Harry and his eyes widened when he got a good look at who was sitting beside him. Harry didn't blame him. He supposed he did look like the stereotyped troublemaker.

"Uh, Hi?" From up close, Harry could see that his eyes were a light grey, with specks of darker grey. They were quite beautiful, actually.

"I'm Harry," he introduced himself, extending his hand.

"Draco," the boy- Draco- replied, placing his hand in Harry's. It was soft and manicured, exactly what Harry's rough palm was not.

"Are you new here?" Harry asked when they retracted their hands a few seconds later.

"Yeah, just moved here a week ago."

"And you're already in detention?" Harry asked, amused. "I think you've beat even my record."

Pale cheeks colored as Draco stuttered out a reply, "I-It wasn't even my fault! Mr. Jones thought I was copying off another student and gave me a detention. As if I would copy off a dunderhead like that," he muttered the last line under his breath.

Harry snorted, "Who was this 'dunderhead'?"

Draco flushed even more when he realized he wasn't as quiet as had thought he was, but replied nonetheless, "Some jock by the name of Goyle, I think. It was on his jacket."

Harry nodded in understanding, "I see what you mean now. Goyle is a dunderhead. Pretty sure the only reason he's still in school is because of his family. Every time he fails, his family donates a new wing to the school or one of it's sister schools across the country."

Draco blinked, "Are you serious?"

"Oh yes, I'm pretty sure at least five different schools have benefitted from Goyle Jr.'s stupidity in the last few years," Harry shrugged.

When he saw that Draco was still a little shocked, Harry stifled another snort and continued, "Yeah, we have some special people in this school. Anyway, don't worry about Mr. Jones. He's notoriously unreasonable with his disciplinary actions. Just one tip when dealing with him; don't ever argue. If you feel like he's being a pain in the arse, instead of saying it to his face, go talk to the principal or something. Much more effective."

Draco eyed him suspiciously, "You sound like you have a lot of experience with this."

Harry laughed, "Well of course I do! I've been in detention too many times to count. What about you?"

Draco pointed at himself, "Me? This is my first detention."

It was Harry's turn to gape in shock at the blond sitting calmly in front of him.

"Okay, let me guess," Harry started, raising his index finger, "You're a straight A genius student as well?"

"I'm not a genius," Draco protested, cheeks colouring again. Harry realized he quite liked that flushed look on him.

"But you are a straight A student?" he pushed, knowing he was right.

Draco hung his head and mumbled, "I try to be."

"What was that?" Harry asked with a grin on his face, right hand cupping his ear in mock confusion.

"Oh go away," If Harry didn't know any better, he would say Draco just pouted.

"No. I did not pout. Malfoy do not pout," Draco almost shrieks, scandalised, and Harry looked at him in confusion. It took him a few seconds to realise he had spoken his thoughts of out loud.

When Draco's words registered though, he burst out in laughter, ignoring the disapproving look the teacher sent him.

"Did you really just say that?" he wheezed our between his laugher, his sides beginning to hurt from the non stop laughter.

Draco scowled at him in clear displeasure but did not answer.

"Oh come on, love, don't be that way," Harry coaxed, finally getting his laughter under control. He watched Draco carefully when he used the term of endearment and he wasn't disappointed when his cheeks bloomed red again.

Score for Potter, he mentally cheered.

"How about," Harry started again, "we ditch this place and go somewhere we can have some fun?"

Confusion filled Draco's grey eyes, "We can leave? I thought detention would be longer."

"Oh, it is longer," Harry laughed, "I'm just saying we cut it short since we aren't doing anything productive in here anyway."

Now Draco just looked scandalised. "We can't bunk detention, Harry. How can you even suggest-?"

"And if by some miracle," he continued, "I do take you up on that offer, how do you plan to get past that teacher sitting right there, in clear view of the door?"

He crossed his arms, and one of his blonde eyebrows went up in a clear sign of challenge that only succeeded in making Harry snicker.

"Don't worry about old Mr. Hicks," Harry waved his concerns away, "He'll get up in exactly three minutes, say 'well children, I have to go to the...uh loo. Don't misbehave while I'm gone' and he'll be away for at least twenty or so minutes. We can easily leave then and if anyone asks, we completed our detention, Mr. Hicks just forgot."

By the time he was finished, Draco looked a little bit unsure but Harry could see that he was still far from convinced. So he tried once again, taking a different route,

"Come on love, one detention in your senior year is just sad. Why not add more to it?" he winked.

Before Draco could reply, Mr. Hinks got up and said exactly what Harry said he would. The blonde turned to look at a smirking Harry in disbelief, as if he could not believe that just happened.

"See, I told you. I've been here enough times to have his whole schedule memorised," Harry shrugged, although his emerald eyes were twinkling with humour.

"So, what do you say? Wanna get out of here?"

Draco look at the door hesitantly, bit his lip, looked at Harry's expectant face, back at the door and taking a deep breath, nodded.

Harry whooped, punching his fist in the air.

"You won't regret this," he promised, before taking Draco's hand and dragging him out of the classroom.

"Oh, I have a feeling I will," Draco muttered behind him but Harry just ignored him. He merely squeezed his hand tighter.

 **Prompts-**

 _-(word) vulgar_

 _\- prompt no. 257/ insane house challenge_


	12. Forbidden Love?

**Okay, wow, I cannot _believe_ I'm actually posting this. I cannot believe that I even wrote something like this tbh. Maybe I was inspired by last year's NY resolution of writing this pairing? I dont know, man. It's actually funny that I get out of my writing slump (or atleast try to get out of) with _this._**

 **I'm not quite sure how cohesive this whole piece is, probably because I wasn't quite sure where I was going with this.**

 **This definitely has to be one of the more disturbing fics I've written (yes, including the Snily)**

 **Anyway, concrit is always welcome :")**

 **Word count: 992**

 **(14/2/18)**

* * *

It started off small. Just a couple drop of that wonderful Firewhisky in her normal cup of tea. You couldn't even notice it. Neither the smell nor the taste. It was as if it wasn't there at all. Which was perfect, since she just needed it to take the edge off, which it did.

But it didn't stop there. It just became worse and worse. From a point where one bottle laster her well over three months, it came down to one, and then one week until finally, she finished up a whole drink in a day.

No one could see it of course, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister must never be seen as anything but impeccable. It was why she had all sorts of charms and potions ready at her disposal. She could've been intoxicated to the very brink of death but damned if she ever showed it.

The only time one could ever find out what she was doing was if they somehow managed to enter her room in the evening. Then, they would get an eyeful of exactly what Dolores Umbridge was doing when she wasn't sucking up to Fudge or actively torturing young children.

She was getting, pardon the French, drunk off her arse.

And no one would've been any the wise either, if she had just managed to check her door one last time. She always locked it; with her...proclivities, she had to. But, somehow, that day, that _one_ day she forgot. Maybe it was her restlessness at what Dumbledore might be up to next. Maybe it was frustration at that Potter brat who just refused to keep his mouth shut. Maybe she just missed the taste of that liquor, the feel of the Firewhisky burning down her throat.

Or maybe it was...him.

No. She refused to go there. Refused to entertain those thoughts. She had a job to do, and she would see it through. Along the way, if she well, indulged in certain luxuries, well she was in a stressful line of work and this was not harming anyone. Unlike certain things she was doing. When she was completely sober, ironically enough.

But enough of that.

Just as she had taken the half-empty bottle (she needed to place an order for more, she was running out and you couldn't have that) out of it's spot under her table, which was admittedly not the most secure of spots but definitely the most convenient if she ever wished to have an afternoon, or even morning, drink.

Just as she had taken the bottle out, the door slowly swung open. She could do little more than watch the door in horror, knowing that there was no way she could've hidden the contraband in her hands without the person seeing what she was doing.

She squinted a little to see who it was, the light from the hallway not making it any easier for her. Sandy straw like hair...lanky body...uneven teeth...tattered clothes...heavy-set boots.

Dolores gulped as the picture formed in her mind. Argus Filch was currently in her doorway while she had an incriminating bottle of alcohol in her hands.

Granted, she didn't think he could really do anything of damage, but still. This was a man that she...wasn't entirely opposed to, unlike virtually every other person in this Merlin-forsaken castle. She actually looked forward to the times they spent in each others company.

But this was not the time for that. She needed to appear strict, or who knows what he might do? She mentally thanked the universe that she hadn't drunk anything yet, or she knew she would have definitely done something she'd regret.

She pulled her pink cardigan tighter around her, sat up a little straighter (which admittedly didn't do much) and with her mouth in a thin line, asked,

"Mr. Filch, what are you doing here at this time?"

He didn't say anything, merely looked at her with those smoldering moss-colored eyes. Before she could utter another word, though, he took a step into her class, and closed the door behind her, locking it. Dolores couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine at that action. But she couldn't appear weak, could she?

"Mr. Filch!" she shrieked, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, Dolores, you think I don't know what you're doing?" Argus smirked, his yellowed teeth glinting in the dim light. Somehow, that didn't turn her off. Instead, it had the exact opposite effect.

"I-Yo-What do you think I'm doing?" Dolores spluttered, in the last effort to maintain her dignity.

Argus looked pointedly down at what her hands were holding and her cheeks burned red, but she still refused to bow down to him.

"I don't see what the problem in indulging in a drink is," she sniffed.

"You don't, eh?" he muttered, stepping close to her, letting his pungent breath wash over her, making her tremble in...anticipation?

"N-No," Dolores stuttered, immediately cursing herself out for showing weakness.

Argus smirked at that, leaning forward, his tall frame towering over her stout one. Dolores closed her eyes, wetting her lips in anticipation. She had been wanting this ever since she'd laid eyes on him that first day in school. She would never admit it but the minute she saw the cat in his arms, she knew, she knew that he was the one for her.

As time passed, and as she got to know him, that feeling only strengthened.

And now? Everything she wanted was about to happen.

Her lips stretched up into a large smile just as his lips touched hers.

Well, that's another one to the add to the list of ways Firewhisky just made her life better.

* * *

 _Quite a few prompts/challenges so here goes-_

 _-Assignment #3, Mythology, Dionysus, God of Wine; Write about an alcoholic._

 _-365 Prompts Challenge; (item) cardigan_

 _-The Insane House Challenge; 782. (food) Firewhisky_

 _-Writing Club; Pink Day- Write about someone who likes Pink; Dear old Shiz- (setting) Hogwarts; Write a story without using any of the Hogwarts houses+ (location) Hogwarts; Mean Girls- (color) Pink_

 _-LENT Challenge- Write about someone giving in to temptation._


End file.
